


Sunkissed and Moonloved

by gotta_write_them_all (sailorsally)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, If Flint holding cutlass at Silver's neck awakens something in you you are not the only one, M/M, Silver is horny for Flint and I'm horny for the elements, The best way to describe this would be 'poetic porn', the inherit eroticism of the sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorsally/pseuds/gotta_write_them_all
Summary: 'From this angle, James' neck looks longer and the freckled constellations embossing his sunburnt skin there seem endless.He looks like a mirage and John is thirsty in the middle of a desert.'
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Sunkissed and Moonloved

The ocean rings in John Silver’s ears. His breaths come in as heavily as the waves crashing against the shore beneath him. The pain in his leg is as faint as the breeze on his damp face. He’s down on his knees. The muscles in his body, burning from both the combat and the merciless sun above, clench in protest as he sways to his side, rearranging his weight so that most of it falls on his healthier knee. The sharp edge of the cutlass follows him, stopping just a hair’s width from his neck that’s glistening with sweat. At this new angle, the sunbeam hits its shiny edge, reflecting the light back at the man that’s holding it, steadily, as if the sharp metal were the extension of his arm.   
  
James Flint is towering over him, equally out of breath. His eyes are fixed on John’s as his sword still hovers at John’s neck, a smirk threatening to break out on his face any moment now. John instinctively reaches for his crutch, but comes up empty-handed. The sand slips through his fingers, a thin layer clinging to his sweaty fingers.

James’ shirt is open, tucked out of his breeches at places from having moved around during the sparring, skin showing. From this angle, his neck looks longer and the freckled constellations embossing his sunburnt skin there seem endless. 

He looks like a mirage and John is thirsty in the middle of a desert.

John reaches out, James hips feel solid under his palms. _Some mirage._

“What are you doing?” Flint asks, his voice dry and Silver thinks maybe James isn’t a mirage, maybe he’s the desert.

Silver doesn't look at him. Instead, he moves his hands to the front, fingers purposefully fumbling with the hot metal buckle of James’ belt.

The cutlass falls silently to the left of Silver’s leg, bobs, cuts the desert.   
  
“John?” Flint asks again. Silver feels Flint’s hands on his, stalling him as he tries to unbuckle Flint’s slacks. He stills, his limbs feel baked. He craves rain.

When Silver looks up, James looks so much smaller than he did a moment ago - he’s a pond in the middle of a wasteland and Silver wants nothing more than to drink from it.  
  
“I want this,” John says, mouth like cotton. 

“You want this,” he says and looks at Flint, greedy for the sea green in his eyes.

The tall sun frames James’ head with a halo and Silver preys to an unknown deity ‘ _Let me drink.’_

  
He is granted his wish when James falls to his knees in front of him, like a wave crashing ashore.

He floods Silver’s space, seeps through the tiniest cracks the way only water can; cups John’s face with both hands, pulls him closer, kisses him with the determination of an ocean.

  
“I do. I want you,” James tells him after the tide subsidies. He kisses John’s face and kisses his mouth, again. Silver, now waterlogged, sighs into the kiss and James pushes past his lips, touches his tongue to the roof of John’s mouth. They both groan into the shared dampness.   
  
James draws John’s breeches open and palms his cock. John’s head falls to James’ shoulder and as James runs his thumb over the slit he has to bite James’ neck to silence himself.

He licks a stripe up James’ neck and tastes the sea.

  
James frees himself and takes both of them in his hand. John cries out, bucks his hips to meet James'.   
  
“You know, I was on my knees for a reason, wanted you in my mouth,” John’s drunk on sea water and can't stop drinking.

  
James shivers.

  
“Later,” he says and his voice sounds like a low rumble of seashells.  
  
John reaches down and covers James hand with his, encouraging him to go faster.

James understands, starts to pump them faster and John releases him. Instead, he places his arms around James’ frame and clings to him, like a scunner clings to the main mast in lue of an oncoming storm.  
  
He can feel the pull in his groin getting stronger and he knows he is about to go under.

“Please,” John begs about to drown.

  
James tightens his grip. He cups John’s scrotum with one hand, while with the other he continues to stroke faster, pulling them towards the bottom of the sea.   
  
John comes with a cry, his hands fisting in James' shirt. He spills all over himself and James before he finally resurfaces, taking in a big gulp of fresh air. James follows him close behind.

The sand feels hot under them as they lie next to each other, shoulders touching, mouths breathing. 

"I thought you were a desert but you are an ocean," Silver says.

James turns his head and plants a soft kiss on John's shoulder.

"If I’m an ocean, then you are the moon," he tells Silver.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, this was a fun exercise in "let's see how many desert & ocean references can I use to describe John's horniness and do it in just 800 words." Thanks for reading <3 Comments are as always highly appreciated! xx


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